


Here Comes the Jackpot Question

by firelord65



Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Ambiguous Timing to Canon, F/M, Kissing, New Year's Eve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:07:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28462143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firelord65/pseuds/firelord65
Summary: Elena struggles to figure out New Years and make it feel a bit more like the holidays should.
Relationships: Elena Gilbert/Damon Salvatore
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4
Collections: Holiday Horror 2020





	Here Comes the Jackpot Question

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Corina (CorinaLannister)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CorinaLannister/gifts).



Sulking around the Salvatore boarding house had not been on Elena’s plans for the holiday season. In previous years she might have expected to be spending the post-Christmas haze of days finishing off the last round of eggs and flour making cookies with Jeremy. Or perhaps she would work her way through whatever new books she had gotten while watching-but-not-really some Christmas specials on TV. 

Of course, there were no books from Aunt Jenna under the tree this year. And Jeremy certainly wasn’t around to make fun of how her cutout sugar cookies didn’t look like their intended shapes. This year had been hard. 

Elena blinked blearily and rubbed at the tiredness, emotional and physical, that was blurring her eyes. She had been staring into the fire that seemed inexplicably to always be burning in the great room’s fireplace. From behind her Elena heard the rustling of someone puttering aimlessly. 

Her mood only soured further. “I haven’t left. No need to check in,” she called out irritably over her shoulder. 

She wasn’t alone in the boarding house. While Stefan, Bonnie, and Alaric were on kitsune hunting duty, Elena was considered a potential distraction to the affair. Their earlier attempts to track and trap the troublesome spirit had ended poorly to say the least when it had decided Elena was the squishiest and most enticing target compared to the vampires, witch, and seasoned hunter. Hence Elena was deposited in the boarding house - her complaints noted but otherwise unaddressed - with an equally insufferable bodyguard. 

The sounds turned to familiar tinkling glass and sloshing liquids. Damon appeared in the corner of Elena’s eye with a freshened up tumbler of bourbon and his own bitter expression. He was moving slowly, only one hand grasping the glass while he held his other arm against his chest. Its stark white bandage stood out against his dark t-shirt. “I’m injured, not deaf. I would have heard the front door,” he replied sharply. He deposited himself onto the couch next to Elena as he knocked back a draught of the amber liquor. 

Elena felt a twinge of guilt when he winced and readjusted the bandaged arm to rest on the couch in a different position. “That foxfire must be nasty stuff. It still hasn’t healed?” she questioned. Damon shook his head as a fresh wave of irritation passed across his face. It eventually leveled off to his typical scowl though with the help of another sip of bourbon. 

“I’m sorry,” Elena offered again. It had been her fault after all. If Damon hadn’t pushed her out of the way, she would have been the one visiting the Salvatore burn unit. 

“Don’t worry about it.” Damon pushed aside her apologies with an ease that was reserved only for her. If it had been Stefan’s fault? Or even Alaric’s? That would be another story. “Just tell me they’ll find the stupid spirit soon,” Damon growled. 

That coaxed a wry laugh from Elena. “I thought I was the one trapped. You just need some rest, and I’m sure that arm will be feeling better in no time,” Elena remarked. 

He dragged his head in a lazy circle to look at her. Elena let her own attention leave the crackling fire to meet his gaze. “Trapped?” Damon said. He lifted his good hand - glass and all - to rest against his heart. “That hurts worse than the foxfire.”

Elena’s retort floundered in her throat. Something about his eyes with their intensity even when bantering like this always pierced deep inside her. Her fingers gripped the pendant around her neck. It wasn’t compulsion. It never was. Yet it felt just as strong. Then he chuckled and turned to the fire, leaving her to let out the breath in her lungs. 

“Well, I wasn’t exactly planning on spending new years stuck in here,” Elena managed finally. 

“There will be others,” Damon snapped. Then he seemed to think better and amended, “Assuming they catch the fox. If they don’t, then yeah. Maybe this one should have been more special.”

Elena huffed and threw herself to her feet. “What?” Damon called to her retreating form as she made her way to the back door. She ignored him and tugged the door open. The evening air rushed in to greedily sap at the warmth from the fire. Damon let out further complaints which she also ignored. 

She wasn’t going anywhere. Her legs just needed to stretch, and she had to get out of the room she’d been knocking around in for the past day and a half. Last night she’d slept on the couch, expecting the squad’s plan to only take a short time. Now it was nearly midnight and there was no update, no end in sight. Never mind the fresh year edging in just over the horizon. 

Elena wrapped her hands tightly around her torso as the chill set in. She heard further grumbling from inside before the door slipped shut behind her. Then it was just Elena and the nighttime air. 

Her feet carried her only a short distance to the low railing on the back porch. She had spent other, warmer nights out on the stone bench a little further out towards the woods or the hammock she’d strung up between the beech trees there. Tonight the railing would do fine. Staring up at the star-spattered sky, Elena tried to gather her thoughts and emotions again. 

Damon shouldn’t really get under her skin anymore. She had spent more than enough time in his company to expect his remarks and jabs. Him being irritable from his injury was surely the reason for what he’d said just now. Yet Elena couldn’t let go of the scowl across her face regardless of reason. It still hurt. It wasn’t fair to lose this new year as well on top of all the things that she had given up ever since… well, ever since her parents died really. 

The door behind her creaked open again. Elena pressed her eyes closed. “Like I said already, I’m not leaving,” she snapped. 

“I know,” Damon replied. A heavy material was draped over her shoulders, immediately warding off the worst of the winter chill. Elena moved one hand to bring the blanket closer around her and realized belatedly the actual item’s identity. Damon had given her his jacket. She kept her eyes closed and breathed in the familiar leather scent. 

“I’m sorry.” Elena’s eyes flew open at that. Damon was leaning on the opposite post, his gaze matching where hers had left - the stars. He remained silent for a long minute as Elena wondered how she should respond. She kept quiet and shifted deeper into his jacket as the cold air refused to give up chase. 

Damon moved awkwardly to try and cross his arms. When his other arm pressed against the bandage, he winced again and dropped it. “You really forget about annoying pain like this when you haven’t dealt with it in ages,” he spat.

He cleared his throat and focused instead on Elena. “What I said inside was cruel. Young or not, you… you shouldn’t have to sacrifice all of your good times. It does suck. I should have kept my mouth shut,” Damon admitted. He didn’t even make a face with the second apology. 

Letting him off the hook shouldn’t have been easy; but Elena was soft and both Salvatores had their own special spots in her heart. Still, she could make him work for it a little bit. Elena bit her lower lip as she looked away to the side. “So how are you going to make it up to me?” she asked quietly. She shuffled her shoulders slightly. “The coat was a nice first step, so you’re halfway there,” she added. 

Next to her, Elena could hear Damon’s slow, deliberate steps as he moved yet again to her side. “I have a few ideas. Bribery tends to get me pretty far. Those cheese fries from the cafe would be my go-to, but it’s a little late for that,” Damon remarked. He moved smoothly into their usual banter. There was a hint of relief to his expression that Elena caught in the corner of her eye. 

“I was thinking something a little more festive,” Elena teased. She turned finally to look at him fully again as his shoulder brushed against hers. He leaned heavily on his good hand against the railing. 

“Festive, huh?” Damon parroted back. She could tell he was picking up on her thread of an idea. The tips of her ears started to burn but at least the flush on her cheeks she could blame on the cold. “I can think of just one  _ festive _ tradition for New Years, but it requires some waiting. I don’t think it’s quite midnight here.”

Elena’s hand slipped over his on the railing. “Is that a vampire thing? You can just tell when it’s midnight?” She was joking of course to get that curl of his lip to reappear. 

“Definitely,” he said. “It’s not that the clock over the mantle was barely reading ten thirty when you left.”

“I didn’t leave,” Elena insisted again. Damon lifted his hand so that he could place hers on his shoulder instead. 

“Mmmhm,” Damon murmured. He gingerly used his injured hand to coax her towards him as the other delicately brushed her hair behind her ear. “That’s why I had to chase you down. Because you didn’t leave.” 

Her back was against the post. The winter chill didn’t matter much with Damon’s body so close and his jacket around her shoulders. “Maybe I like making you chase me,” Elena whispered. Then his mouth pressed against hers, and she didn’t worry about anything else for a while. 


End file.
